Fun at France's House
by musik-fan-95
Summary: 15 Countries. Snowstorm. France's house. Malevolent forces at work. Jolly good fun. Human names used, and yes, I fail at titles. Some HetaOni stuff too.
1. Chapter 1

'**Tis my first APH fanfic! It's the kind of story that's completely hogged my writing attention, so I'm thinking that if I post this I'd be able to finish a couple of chapters on the other ones XD**

**This is the edited version :D I re-uploaded it with a couple of changes. Better late than never.**

**N****ote: Ok, so I know Belgium doesn't have a human name, so I'm calling her Belle ('cause I'm original like that, and it said so on Yahoo!Answers *is shot*). She pops up later.**

Chapter 1:

"Can we PLEASE slow down?" Kiku Honda cried, looking slightly green in the back seat of a silver Maserati. The Vargas brothers grinned at each other in the front while Ludwig tried to calm the nation down.

"We're not even going THAT fast, Kiku, we're driving at what, 80 miles?" Ludwig said, trying not to laugh.

"That's still too fast!" Kiku cried. "If we crash, we'll all die!"

"I'm too good of a driver to crash," Lovino Vargas snorted from the driver's seat.

"Besides, Kiku, the speed limit here is actually 120mph," Feliciano Vargas smiled. "So technically, we aren't even going that fast."

"You Europeans and your cars will be the death of me," Kiku muttered. "The next time I need to go to Europe, I will drive myself."

"Veh, no need to worry anymore, we're here!" Feliciano turned and grinned at Kiku while Lovino turned the car into a cobblestoned driveway leading to a fancy-looking mansion.

It was a cold and grey Friday morning and Feliciano, his older brother Lovino, and his friends and colleagues Ludwig and Kiku Honda had arrived there for a meeting. Alfred F. Jones had decided that they were holding too many meetings at his house, and Francis Bonnefoy had volunteered that they come over to his house instead. Feliciano hadn't minded at the time, but the radio was full of severe snowstorm warnings for the area and Feliciano wasn't keen on being stranded at Francis's house for a day (for obvious reasons, this was _Francis_ he were talking about here) if the snowstorm hit. But Ludwig would be there too, so there'd be _some_ sort of order.

Feliciano got out of the car and shivered, pulling his coat around him tightly. It was already freezing. He watched as a snowflake drift gently down from the sky and land in his brother's hair.

"Veh, it's already snowing," he sighed. "Where is everyone? I wanna go inside before the weather gets too bad."

Kiku looked at his phone. "Wang-san said they'd be here before we arrived," he mused. "Maybe the snowstorm already started and delayed them?"

"Nah, here they are," Lovino said as another car turned into the driveway. The vintage Rolls Royce pulled behind Lovino's car and had barely turned off before a terrified-looking Arthur Kirkland and Wang Yao leapt out of the front seats and sprinted behind Ludwig like the devil was on their tails.

"Hello everybody," Ivan Braginski smiled, getting out of the backseat. "Thank you for giving me a lift here, Arthur,"

"Oh, no problem, old chap," muttered a very dejected-looking Arthur from behind Ludwig.

"But where is Alfred-san?" Kiku said.

"The git wanted his own ride here," Arthur snorted.

"He's probably late," Wang said matter-of-factly.

"Let's wait a while and see if he shows up," Ludwig suggested.

An awkward silence enveloped the group.

"Veh, maybe Francis will let us in?" Feliciano said brightly.

"Wait, we should check if he's got a garage or a covered spot where we can park the cars," Lovino said, worried more about the cars than freezing outside.

"Good idea," Arthur said. They started walking, following the driveway winding around to the back of the house and stopped. There were two cars already parked under the shade of the back veranda – a sleek Alfa Romeo and a platinum Audi R8.

"Whose cars are those?" Wang Yao said.

"Who would willingly visit Francis's house?" Ludwig wanted to know.

"There's something oddly familiar about that one," Lovino frowned, pointing to the Alfa Romeo. Feliciano nodded.

Arthur started to agree, but was cut off by the sound of a helicopter from the front of the house. They went out front to see what was going on, and Arthur stopped, pinching his brow when he realised who it was. "Oh my God, the git," he muttered.

As the helicopter started to land, a blonde man with glasses and a huge grin plastered on his face leapt out. "Hey you guys!" Alfred F. Jones yelled happily as the helicopter took off. "Like my awesome ride?" Feliciano, being the easily-impressed one, cheered and Ivan smiled his usual blank smile while everyone else groaned and face-palmed.

"Why must you always be so extravagant Alfred?" Arthur said.  
>Alfred slapped him on the back. "Oh come on, Iggy, you're just jealous of my kick-ass ride, dude!"<p>

"Why the blazes would I be jealous of a helicopter? I have enough at home," Arthur snorted.

"Pfft, sure dude," Alfred smirked. "Hey, Matt, where'd you go?"

"I'm right here," Alfred's calmer, almost identical brother Matthew Williams said, standing right behind him.

Alfred put his arm around his brother's shoulders. "Well bro, this is an important meeting, so don't go disappearing on me!"

"I don't disappear, you just ignore me!" Matthew began, but Alfred had already ignored him.

"Well, we're all here, so let's go!" Alfred cheered.

**Yup, I know Alfa Romeos are Italian. I just couldn't find any fancy Spanish cars. I figured they'd all have fancy cars, and Alfa Romeos sound really fancy. Ok, stopping car spiel now.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2's up!**** Thanks to people who favourited! (Aka 2bblue101)**

**I always forget to do disclaimers.**

**Anyway, here's two 'cause I missed the disclaimer for chapter 1.**

**I do not own Hetalia. If I did, Austria and Hungary would forever be together, and Spain/Belgium would be cannon. That is all.**

Chapter 2:

"Dude, why isn't he opening the door?" Alfred wanted to know. They'd been hammering on Francis's door for the last ten minutes with no response. It didn't help that the snowing had steadily gotten worse, and was now half blinding everyone.

"Oh, I give up," Arthur said in exasperation, brushing snow out of his hair. He started rummaging through a collection of pot plants near the door.

"Perhaps we could break the door?" Ivan smiled, holding up a pickaxe.

"Put that thing away, aru!" Wang said.  
>"Where did you hide that?" Kiku said.<p>

"Found it," Arthur announced. Everyone looked.

"Found what?" Ludwig inquired.

"The spare key," Matthew smiled, hovering behind Arthur. "Francis _always_ keeps a spare key under one of his plants,"

"It's his backup if he loses his keys," Arthur explained. "Which happens practically every time he gets drunk," he added under his breath.

"Can you just open the door already?" Alfred said. "The snowing is getting even worse…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Arthur muttered, opening the door.

Feliciano was met with a burst of warm air as he entered. Francis's house always smelt like pastries and felt elegant, yet cosy. Velvet curtains were drawn across the huge glass windows to keep the cold out, and a crystal chandelier hung delicately from the ceiling. Feliciano took off his coat and hung it next to Lovino's as Arthur and Ludwig looked around, annoyed.

"Seriously, where is he?" Ludwig frowned. "He had better have a good reason for being so late."

"Maybe he was attacked by a rabid squirrel, and because he's French, he ran away screaming?" Lovino suggested.  
>"But wouldn't you do the same thing?" Ludwig said.<p>

Lovino glared at him. "This isn't about me, potato freak; it's about the wine jerk."

"Come on bro, lets go see where Francis is," Feliciano said quickly, before Lovino started head-butting people. He grabbed his brother's arm and started dragging him down the corridor. Alfred and Matthew caught up and everyone followed behind. They walked to the end of the corridor and turned left into the living room. The Vargas brothers stopped.

Lovino turned and looked and Ludwig, annoyed. "Ya didn't tell us that _they'd_ be here, too," he said, jerking his thumb behind him.

"Who?" Ludwig said, confused, as he and Arthur walked past the Vargas brothers and stopped as well.

Francis had two sofas in his living room; one, a three-seater facing the opposite wall; the other, a giant L-shaped sofa facing the door. Francis himself was curled up in the corner of the latter sofa snoring gently, an empty wine bottle in his hand. A few people were sprawled over both, using each others' heads as pillows. Empty wine and beer bottles were scattered around along with dirty dishes.

"So that's why there were so many cars," Kiku said, while Arthur face-palmed.

Ludwig narrowed his eyes. "EVERYBODY GET UP!" He roared, now in Drill Sergeant Mode. A couple of the partygoers, aka Antonio and Belle, leapt upright in shock, and Francis fell off the sofa. Roderich, Elizabeta and Gilbert, however, stirred a bit, then fell back to sleep, used to Ludwig's Drill Sergeant Voice.

Feliciano ran over and gently shook Roderich and Elizabeta awake, while Ivan walked over to Gilbert and shook him gently. "Kol kol, time to wake up, Gilbert," he smiled.

Gilbert slowly opened his eyes. Seeing who it was, he let out an almighty shriek and leapt to the other end of the sofa, pulling Roderich and Elizabeta in front of him as a sort of shield.

Ludwig pinched his brow. "This is going to be a long day," he muttered, as a loud slap resonated through the air.

"Why are you in my house?" Francis cried, looking at Ludwig. "Get out of my house!" he winced, clutching his head. "Aah, hangover," he moaned.

"What is wrong with you?" Arthur yelled back. "You stupid git! Why didn't you let us in? We were freezing out there! And why are you drunk in the first place?"

"I don't need to answer to you!" Francis yelled back. "It's _my_ house!"

"Everyone, _calm down_." Elizabeta said, pulling out her cast-iron, slightly blood-stained frying pan. Francis and Arthur froze. "Let's discuss this _softly. Calmly_. Because I have a huge migraine and I am willing to kill and/or maim at the moment." Gilbert started backing away, just in case.

Roderich sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Alright then, let's see if we can get to the bottom of this." He looked at Ludwig. "Is there a reason why you decided to rudely wake us up?"

It was Alfred who answered. "Dude, we're supposed to have a meeting here. Why are _you_ here?"

"Cause we were celebrating my somewhat late birthday," Antonio answered.  
>"Francis said we could have Antonio's party at his house," Belle added.<p>

"And then we got drunk and stayed the night," Antonio finished.

"How come I wasn't invited?" Lovino wanted to know.

Antonio ruffled his hair. "Because you hate Francis?"

"So?" Lovino snorted. "Doesn't mean I couldn't have come too!"

"But we were supposed to have a meeting _here. Today_," Ludwig said, ignoring them.

Francis frowned. "Really? Since when?" Arthur glared at him. "Oh, oh wait. Was that that meeting with the… Oh dear, that was supposed to be today, right? Ah, sorry, I forgot," he grinned apologetically. Arthur rolled his eyes, muttering something about stupid drunk French nations.

"Anyway, sorry about the confusion guys, but you kinda have to leave now," Alfred smiled.

"But I'm tireeeed," Gilbert moaned. "Why can't we just sleep here?"

"It's a confidential meeting, brother," Ludwig sighed.

"I can escort you out," Ivan said.

The partygoers leapt up and made a beeline towards the front door.

"Wait!" Ludwig said suddenly. They stopped. "Roderich, Gilbert, are you busy?"

Gilbert and Roderich shared a wary look while Antonio, Belle and Elizabeta shrugged and made their way out. "Why?" Roderich said.

"Because, I thought you might like to back me up in the meeting," Ludwig said hopefully. "We _do_ share similar views and Gilbert, you technically _are_ part of Germany, and so you should stay and help me!"

Roderich and Gilbert started backing away. "Well, West," Gilbert began. "We'd _love_ to stay and help, but…"

"…But we're not allowed." Roderich finished. "At least, _I'm_ not. But Gilbert, on the other hand…"

Gilbert glared at him. "…Is _also_ not allowed, because I'm Prussia, _not_ Germany."

"It's alright," Ludwig said, sounding crest-fallen. "You're right, you're not allowed."

"Don't worry, Ludwig, I'll always back you up!" Feliciano smiled.

"No way, potato freak," Lovino snorted simultaneously.

Roderich and Gilbert turned to leave and ran into Antonio, Belle and Elizabeta.

"Didn't you guys say you were leaving?" Lovino wanted to know.

"Yeah, about that…" Belle began.

"Well, we kinda can't." Elizabeta finished.

"Why not?" Alfred said. Antonio walked over to a window and pulled the curtains open, revealing a pure whiteout just outside.

Everyone was quiet for a minute.

"Well, that's just _dandy_ now, isn't it?" Arthur said.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Gilbert tiptoed up the stairs as quietly as he could while Gilbird hopped from his shoulder to his hair and back. This was just the _height_ of awesomeness. Antonio, Belle, Elizabeta and Roderich were sleeping upstairs while everyone else had their meeting/weekly-argument downstairs, meaning he had free reign. In Francis's house. _Francis's house_.

"Time to update the awesome blog," Gilbert grinned evilly, pulling out his phone. He walked down the corridor, wincing as a floorboard creaked. He stopped at a room on the right, with the door left slightly ajar. He pushed it open quietly and found himself in a library. Gilbert started at the numerous bookshelves scattered though the room, wondering what exactly Francis would read. He noticed a fireplace in the corner (because that wasn't a fire hazard or _anything_…) and a couple of beanbags and armchairs left haphazardly around the place. Gilbird cheeped, voicing his boredom and Gilbert agreed. "Ok, time to go," he shrugged, turning around. Suddenly the room looked bigger and darker than usual. Gilbert shuddered, feeling cold. There must be a draught or something.

But something was off. The former nation could feel it. It reminded him of past battles, where he'd get this particular feeling, and then walk into a trap and lose the battle. He turned away from the door and surveyed the room with suspicion. A flicker of movement to the left caught his attention.

There was something in the room…

Gilbert reached towards his left hip out of habit, trying to grab a non-existent sword. He cursed silently and pulled a pistol out of his jacket pocket, hoping that whatever was in the room hadn't noticed him, even though he was standing in the middle of the doorway. He looked around, gun held high, waiting for any signs of movement.

What had he seen? He thought, thinking back. There was a flicker of grey, like rotten-scones-grey. Maybe Arthur's cooking has gotten so bad, that it's mutating and taking a life of its own? He mused, and then shuddered, imagining a giant scone trying to attack him. He decided he'd rather just leave than wait to see what was lurking around, images of evil mutated scones still in his mind. He left, shutting the door.

"That was freaky," Gilbert muttered. Gilbird chirped his agreement. "Seriously, what was that? Francis has some _really_ weird things in his house. Y'know what? I think I'm gonna go raid his cellar. I feel like some champagne." He laughed, and Gilbird trilled his agreement. 

"Alright guys!" Alfred began with a grin. "So this whole Global-Warming thing is _really_ sucky right now, so I say we get a giant fan and-"

"Oh, shut it," Arthur said loudly. "If you have something _practical_ we can do, then please say so, otherwise just do us all a favour and shut up."

"Dude! That's so mean! Why can't I talk?"

"Because all you ever do is eat, slurp or come up with stupid, unpractical things!"

The meeting had begun in its typical fashion. Alfred had started a spiel about him being the hero, and Arthur was the only one paying enough attention to yell at him to shut up.

"Well," Wang sighed. "I see that Arthur and Alfred are fighting again. You Western Nations are _so_ immature." Kiku nodded his agreement.

"Psst," Francis whispered. He was sitting next to Ludwig. "Look at Arthur," he muttered, when he had Ludwig's attention. "Doesn't his left eyebrow look thinner than his right?"

Ludwig punched him on the arm. "Stop distracting me!" he whispered, trying not to laugh.

Matthew watched the scene unfolding in front of him with amusement. Sure, he was always ignored, but maybe that was a good thing when you had friends like these. The Vargas brothers were now trying to hold back Arthur, who looked like he was going to strangle Francis for mocking his eyebrows, while Ivan had started a conversation with Wang and Kiku, both looking terrified. Francis caught his eye and winked at him while dodging Arthur. Matthew winked back.

Matthew always thought that Francis was the best older-brother/father-figure he'd ever had. Francis cooked the best food, gave the best advice (unless the advice was love-related… Matthew just didn't want to know when it came to love) and was the only nation (apart from Alfred, of course) who would notice him from time to time and include him in conversations. Francis was also one of the few people who could make him laugh- especially when he was avoiding death blows from Arthur. Like now, for instance.

Feeling thirsty, he picked up Kumajiro, his polar bear, in his left hand and slipped out, making his way to Francis's kitchen. He picked up the coffee pot sitting on the stove, and stopped. Kumajiro looked at him, looking worried. Matthew felt odd, like it was suddenly really cold. Not cold as in hey-look-there's-a-snowstorm-outside-so-duh-it's-freezing cold, but it felt... cold. Matthew had a sinking feeling in his stomach, and icy tendrils of fear flooded the room. Kumajiro's ears twitched as a loud thud resonated through the room, breaking the silence.

Matthew knew he should've gone back and maybe gotten some help, but he was too curious. Instead he picked up a knife in his free hand, and clutching both the knife and his bear tightly, he started to investigate.

Francis's kitchen led straight down to his wine cellar, the door to which was wide open. Matthew had a bad feeling that the earlier thud came from the end of the dark, humid stairs leading down, but he had a knife and a polar bear with sharp teeth so he should be alright if anything happened. He slowly went down the stairs, Kumajiro growling softly, gripping the knife until his knuckles went white.

The cold, eerie feeling steadily got worse as he got further down. Matthew could now barely see even two feet in front of him. Wishing he'd brought a torch or something, he kept walking until – BAM – he collided, nose-first, into another door. Matthew rubbed his nose while Kumajiro looked up at him, still with a worried expression on his face. Matthew froze. There were faint moans coming from the other side of the door.

Matthew put his left hand on the door handle and pushed down. It opened with a soft creek.

Light flooded the narrow, dark staircase, momentarily blinding Matthew. Turns out Francis did install light bulbs down here. He looked up, blinking tears out of his eyes, and then dropped the knife in horror. Kumajiro let out a shocked cry and Matthew stared, dazed, at the body on the floor.

It looked male, about 20-ish years old. He lay on the floor, face-down, limbs sprawled outwards in awkward angles. He had red hair – no, Matthew thought, in shock. His hair wasn't red. But the blood pooling around him was.

He couldn't see where the blood was coming from, but there was a lot of it, and it kept coming. It stained his clothes in dark splotches and coloured his hair crimson instead of its usual platinum silver –

Matthew knew exactly who it was.

He sprinted up the stairs, yelling for help. 

Francis had an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.

It wasn't a usual feeling. It felt, odd. Francis hadn't felt like this in years. Was that…fear he was feeling?

While he ducked under Arthur's outstretched hands he couldn't help but think that something bad was about to happen.

Then he heard Matthew yelling.

Alfred got to his brother first. Matthew was shaking, Kumajiro was mumbling, and both looked dazed and terrified.  
>"Matthew, Matthew! What happened?" Alfred yelled, grabbing his brother's shoulders.<p>

Matthew started shaking his head. "Not me," he muttered. "Downstairs, in the cellar. Gilbert, he's…"

Ludwig didn't wait to hear what Matthew was going to say. He sprinted downstairs, followed by Feliciano, and Francis heard a strangled half-yell. Feliciano rushed back up. "Gilbert's hurt!" he cried, looking worried. "And it's _really_ bad!" He ran down again, this time followed by Arthur, Kiku and Wang. Francis and Alfred stayed with Matthew, trying to calm him down.

Ludwig sat in the meeting room, his face buried in his hands. He sat there like a stone carving, not moving, not making a sound.  
>Francis had never seen him look so worried. Even during the Cold War Ludwig had never appeared to look so disheartened.<p>

Arthur and Wang were in another room with Gilbert. Both had extensive medical knowledge, and both could definitely help Gilbert.

Francis shuddered as he remembered how Gilbert looked. He hadn't gone down there himself, but he'd seen the state Gilbert was in when they brought him up. Ludwig had every right to be worried out of his mind, especially since Gilbert wasn't a proper nation anymore.

The door to the meeting room opened and Arthur and Wang walked in. Ludwig leapt upright and half ran to them, asking them how his brother was.

"Gilbert's fine," Arthur said. Ludwig breathed a sigh of relief. "He'll survive. But he's unconscious at the moment, so you can't talk to him."

"Now that that's sorted out, what we need to do is –" Alfred began.

"If this is another one of your half-wit schemes, I doubt that this is the time or place," Arthur cut him off.

"Dude," Alfred whined. "I was just about to say that we need to figure out what happened and who was responsible! I _can_ read the atmosphere from time to time, y'know,"

"And what does Alfred-san propose we do?" Kiku wanted to know.

Alfred winked. "We investigate the scene of the crime!"

"No thanks," Ivan smiled. "I'll go wake up everyone upstairs."

"Actually, mon amie, I'll do that," Francis said hastily. Everyone upstairs would probably be extremely upset by what had just happened. He doubted they needed to be scared out of their minds by Ivan as well.

**Ah noes, not Gilbo! D: I'm a terrible person for getting him attacked like that. **

***Gilbird starts ****pecking at my head***

**Gilbert: Dude, that is so not awesome, getting me attacked like that.**** That sucks.**

**Me: Shut up and play dead, Gilbert. No-one cares.**


	4. Chapter 4

**And because I forgot to do a disclaimer for chapter 3, here we go (again):**

**I don't own Hetalia. If I did, I would steal most of the Nyotalia girls' outfits. Because I love them and they are so cool (Nyotalia girls and their outfits). Also, Canada would never be forgotten.**

Chapter 4:

Elizabeta was exhausted. She hadn't slept since 3 in the morning, and it didn't help that Gilbert kept twitching in his sleep. He was so restless, God, she was lucky she managed _any_ sleep.

Unfortunately for Elizabeta, her mind decided to race into overtime as she lay in a comfortable bed in one of Francis's luxurious guest bedrooms. She could hear the meeting rapidly dissolving into an argument downstairs, and someone (probably Gilbert) was creeping around in the corridor outside. Whatever. If it was Gilbert, well, her trusty frying pan was lying on the pillow next to her.

She shut her eyes again in some vague hope of trying to sleep, then gave up. Well, she couldn't sleep at the moment, but usually taking a shower relaxed her enough to fall asleep. She got out of bed, shivered at how cold it was (gosh, didn't Francis have _any_ kind of central heating?) and walked down the corridor to the bathroom. She put her hand on the door knob just as Belle opened the door to her room.

"Oh, heya Liz," Belle smiled.

"Hiya," Elizabeta smiled back. "Can't sleep?"  
>"Nope," Belle shrugged. "You?"<p>

"Neither," Liz shrugged. They shared a look and started laughing.

"Pfft, that was hilarious earlier," Belle grinned.

"Francis's face when he saw Ludwig! Oh, why did I forget my camera?" Elizabeta giggled.

"And Arthur was all, 'Argh, I hate you, frog-face! You dare insult my cooking?'" Belle said, in a perfect imitation of Arthur's British accent. Elizabeta started laughing even harder.

The door opposite the bathroom opened and a sleepy-looking Antonio stepped out, yawning. "Hey guys, if you're gonna start gossiping, can you do it somewhere else?" he said. "I'm trying to sleep…"  
>"Oh, sorry, honey," Belle said.<br>"Guys?" Francis called. They turned around. Francis walked towards them with a smile that didn't look quite right. "What, you couldn't sleep?" he said.

"Oh, we couldn't," Elizabeta said, pointing to herself and Belle.

"They started gossiping right outside my door, and I was like, 'Amigos, can you not? I'm trying to sleep here,'" Antonio complained.

Francis grinned but looked distracted. "Hey, can you guys wake up Roderich and come downstairs?"

"Why?" Belle asked.

"Um, no reason, just, um, everyone wants to talk," Francis said elusively.

Belle, Antonio and Elizabeta shared a look.

"Look, just wake him up and come downstairs," Francis sighed. He looked a bit older than usual, Elizabeta noted. And tired. Her woman's intuition kicked in.

"Ok then, we'll meet you downstairs," Belle said. Francis gave them a weak smile and left.

"What was that about?" Antonio said, clueless. Belle and Elizabeta shared another look.  
>"Oh, nothing," Elizabeta shrugged. "I'll just go wake up Roderich."<p>

Antonio, Belle, Elizabeta and Roderich walked into Francis's living room. Everyone was there, Elizabeta thought. Everyone except for a certain red-eyed devil-child…

And why was Gilbird sitting on Mat-wait, who?

On normal days, she would've shrugged it off. He was probably passed out in a gutter somewhere or something. But today, after seeing Francis's face earlier, she had a bad, bad feeling. She gripped Roderich's hand, and he gripped it back, picking up on some of her discomfort.

Ludwig stood up, looking like he'd aged 50 years. Gilbird flew over to him and chirped, landing in his hair. Elizabeta stared at him in shock.

"Ludwig, what happened?" Roderich said, looking worried.

Ludwig ran a hand through his hair and Gilbird fluttered down to his shoulder. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Elizabeta and Roderich shared an apprehensive look.

Feliciano spoke up instead. "Um, Roderich, Elizabeta," he began, looking worried. When Feliciano of all people look worried, then you should expect the worst. "Gilbert was … attacked a while earlier," he said awkwardly. "And it's um, pretty bad."

"How bad?" Elizabeta said.

Ludwig motioned at them to follow him. Elizabeta and Roderich half ran after him.

Elizabeta couldn't believe how Gilbert somehow managed to look angelic, yet half-dead all at once. He looked like he was sleeping, but he was pale, too pale, for it to be normal. His skin was ashen and he wasn't moving. The only indication that he was alive was his chest rising.

Roderich walked around tentatively and gently shook Gilbert's shoulder. Gilbert stirred a bit but didn't open his eyes. Gilbird chirped sadly.

"He was struck with something sharp," Matthew said from the corner, making them all jump. "Sorry, did I just go invisible?" he winced. "I wish I could stop doing that."

"How are you holding up?" Ludwig inquired. At Elizabeta and Roderich's questioning looks, he added, "Matthew was the one who found him."

"Better than how you probably are," Matthew smiled weakly.

"Who would do this?" Elizabeta said, voicing what they were all thinking. "Gilbert is…Gilbert. No-one would hate him enough to do this… do they?"

"But I thought Roderich hated him," Matthew said, confused.

"It's not hate, per se," Roderich said. "Its more like severe dislike. But I don't dislike him enough to do this." Matthew nodded.

Alfred stuck his head through the door. "Hey, guys, we're gonna start our little investigation now. You wanna come through?"

Ludwig nodded, walking out first. Gilbird hopped on to his master's pillow, chirping sadly. Elizabeta took Roderich's hand as he walked past, needing some sort of comfort. He gave her a quick hug, smiling weakly, but Elizabeta could see he was upset behind his usual emotionless mask. Well, she couldn't blame him. She was pretty upset herself.

**Aw noes and now they're all sad D: ****This is getting kinda serious now, huh? Let's hope no one else dies…**

**And who do you guys think did it? Leave an answer in a review ;D (no I was not shamelessly trying to get more reviews *is shot*)**

**Gilbert: Dude seriously. I demand to be brought back to life. You suck. You are so not awesome.**

**Me: *pulls out frying pan***

**Gilbert: …*hides***


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer once again: If I owned Hetalia, there would be an episode (or 8) about how awesome Vietnam is. She's one badass lady.**

Chapter 5:

Alfred had raided Francis's closet and found a brown trench coat, a monocle and a funny-looking hat, which he was now wearing, making him look like a cross between Sherlock Holmes and Poirot. He was pacing up and down the living room, his face screwed up in a thoughtful scowl. If the atmosphere in the room wasn't so grim, Elizabeta was sure that everyone would've been cracking up. But still, she couldn't resist the urge to pull out her phone camera…

"Elizabeta," Roderich said, somehow knowing what she was planning to do.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Well," Alfred began in a grand voice. "Assistant Detective 'Flying Mint Bunny' Arthur –ow, Arthur, stop punching me – and I, Head Detective 'Alpha Dawg' Alfred, were investigating the scene of the crime." Everyone started giggling, Alfred included. His good mood was infectious. "We scoured the area for clues as to the identity of the person who would dare commit such a heinous crime."

"We've decided that we should make a list," Arthur said, holding up a piece of paper. Everyone's names were written on it.

"We're checking to see who had alibis," Alfred said.

"We assume that Gilbert was attacked sometime between 10:05 and 10:20 am, because everyone was either in a meeting or asleep by 10:05, and Matthew found Gilbert at 10:20," Arthur explained.

"The alibi idea should tell us who the attacker was, because we're stuck at Francis's house in the middle of a snowstorm. I doubt that anyone would bother wandering around in this current weather just to hurt Gilbert." Alfred smiled.

"So one of us, in this room, is the –" Belle stopped, looking for a word other than 'killer'. "– Um, attacker?" Everyone looked at each other in horror, realising at the same time that one of their friends was an almost-killer.

"Well, let's get this started!" Alfred grinned, not reading the atmosphere. "Ok, me first! Well, I was in the meeting, so I'm out." He crossed his name off the list.

"I was in the meeting too," Feliciano said. Another cross.

"Cross off Lovino, Kiku, Francis, Ivan, Wang, Arthur and myself while you're at it," Ludwig added.

"And me!" Matthew said.  
>"But bro, you left halfway," Alfred said.<p>

"But I wouldn't kill Gilbert!" Matthew gasped.

"I'm still not crossing it off." Alfred looked up. "Ok then: Antonio?"

"Sleeping."

"Can you prove it?"

"We can," Belle said.

"We were talking outside his door for like, 10 minutes." Elizabeta said.

"I'm putting question marks besides your names," Alfred said. "Which leaves…Roderich."

"I was asleep," Roderich said.

"Prove it," Alfred grinned suddenly.

Roderich frowned. Elizabeta suddenly did not like where this was going.

Ludwig came to the same conclusion. "You cannot be accusing Roderich of attacking Bruder!"

"But it would totally fit! Roderich and Gil completely HATE each other!" Alfred complained.

"Just because I dislike him, does NOT mean I would attack him in a cellar!" Roderich said incredulously.

"You need _evidence_ for this kinda stuff," Elizabeta said, feeling a bit annoyed.

"Well, I've got evidence!" Everyone gasped. Alfred pulled out a plastic bag with a flourish and held it in front of Roderich's face.

"Oh wow. It's a plastic bag. That _definitely_ proves my guilt." Roderich said, a mixture of sarcasm and irritation in his voice.

"More like what's _inside_ the plastic bag!" Alfred pulled out a gold cufflink. "You wear cufflinks. We found a cufflink. Therefore, it must have been you! It's a foolproof accusation!"

"There's a bit of a problem with your foolproof accusation," Roderich said dryly. "I'm not wearing cufflinks." He held up his arm and pointed at his rolled up sleeve.

"Argh, dammit," Alfred muttered.  
>"I told you it wasn't him," Arthur said. "If anyone wanted to kill Gil, it would have to be Elizabeta –"<p>

"Oh what, so now are we just randomly accusing people of this?" Elizabeta snorted.

"Stop it." Ludwig said quietly, but everyone shut up. "Just stop it. I would rather not have you accusing my family of this when you've got nothing to prove it."

Alfred winced. "Sorry, Ludwig. I was getting a bit carried away there."

"Well, this landed us nowhere," Antonio remarked casually, yet looking annoyed. "So, if you guys don't mind, I'm gonna go check on Gil." He walked out, followed by Belle, Francis and the Vargas brothers.

"I'm so sorry about this," Arthur said apologetically to Roderich. "I didn't realise his conspiracy theories were _that_ bad."

"Oh, it's alright, I guess," Roderich sighed. Ludwig looked like he had zoned out.

"Hey, can I go look down where Gil was attacked?" Elizabeta asked.

"Sure," Arthur said. "It's all open. Do you want someone to go with you, or…"

"Nah, I should be good," she winked back, pulling out her frying pan.

"Oh hey, Liz, are you going down?" Alfred asked. "Cause I wanted to go back down there again, to see if there was anything I missed." Elizabeta narrowed her eyes, holding up her frying pan. "As in," Alfred added quickly, resisting the urge to hide. "Not to find more stuff to accuse your boyfriend with or anything, but to just look, y'know?"

"I would like to come along as well," Kiku said.

"Cool," Elizabeta started walking, putting her frying pan away into that hidden extra-dimension where she usually hides it. Alfred held the kitchen door open for her and Kiku then followed behind them.

Alfred motioned for her to go down first, like he was trying to be extra nice and polite after accusing her boyfriend of almost killing her best friend. She rolled her eyes at the gesture and went downstairs first.

The cellar was huge, as expected of Francis and his addiction to wine. There was a clearing in the centre of the room with a scarily-huge red puddle. Man that was a lot of blood. Elizabeta was used to blood-drenched battlefields, but that was a lot of blood coming from just one person. She sidestepped it to stand by one of the many shelves of wine bottles lining the room.

Alfred was walking around, looking up and down, like he was trying to piece something together. Kiku was staring at the blood puddle, looking a bit pale. Arthur came down too, sidestepping the blood puddle to stand near another shelf, followed by Ivan, who started looking around too, and Roderich and Ludwig walked around to where Elizabeta was standing, both staring at the blood-puddle in horror.

"Hey, Ludwig, Roderich, Elizabeta," Arthur began. "I don't think you guys should be down here, y'know, where your friend nearly died. I doubt it's healthy."

Roderich tore his eyes away from the floor and Ludwig looked up, while Elizabeta half-smiled. "Thanks for the concern, but I just had to see."

"Hey, guys," Alfred said from behind a shelf. He sounded surprised, yet a bit worried.

Kiku walked over and stopped. He looked up at them, a blank expression on his face.

"What, Al, did you find something?" Arthur said.

Alfred reached down and picked up something off the floor, holding it up so that everyone could see. It was a sleek black cellphone, touch screen, a couple of small chains hanging off the corner. The screen was cracked and it was half covered in blood.

Elizabeta squinted at it. Why did it look so familiar to her? It wasn't hers, was it? No, hers was grey. But then, whose could it be?

Roderich's face dropped. He started checking his pockets.  
>"Hey, Roderich." Alfred said. "Where's your phone?"<p>

**Wait, so it WAS ****Roderich? Gasp! :O**

**Gilbert****: I WILL HAUNT HIM **

**Me: Hush, you.**

**..or IS IT? (Dun dun duuuuuuun) *is shot***

**Review with who you think the baddie is! ;D**


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